


What's Left Of Me

by myrmidryad



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrmidryad/pseuds/myrmidryad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana's latest plan involves paying a man to lead Merlin and Arthur to the cave of a monster that is terrorising the locals who live nearby. But why is it so vital that Merlin accompanies Arthur on this journey? And what do his secrets have to do with it? Based on the Nick Lachey song of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Left Of Me

Merlin watched Morgana from across the crowded hall. She looked beautiful as always, her long hair tumbling provocatively over her shoulders, red lips curved in friendly smiles. Beautiful and deadly, Merlin thought to himself, frowning slightly. 

“Anything the matter?” Gwen appeared at his side and smiled at him. 

“What?” Merlin looked at her, jerked out of his reverie. He smiled reassuringly. “No, no. Everything’s fine.” 

“You’re sure?” Gwen tilted her head. “You didn’t look very happy.” 

“I’m fine,” Merlin grinned, “trust me. Arthur’s not yelling at me, no one’s blaming me for anything, and tonight I’ll get a free meal. Life is looking pretty good at the moment.” 

“Well that’s alright then,” Gwen smiled. 

“Good job with Morgana’s hair, by the way,” Merlin added, changing the subject. 

Gwen glowed, pleased. “Thank you. Arthur looks great too.” 

Merlin smiled down at her and carefully didn’t falter. “Glad you noticed, though I suppose you would, wouldn’t you, Gwen?” he nudged her lightly to make her blush. He had resigned himself to watching Arthur chase Gwen long ago. He didn’t mind so much – Gwen was lovely. He hoped that they would be happy together. 

“Merlin!” Gwen bit her lip and looked away. “Why would I notice?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Merlin teased, “I just thought you liked Arthur is all.” 

“But I do,” Gwen said, and then shook her head, backtracking. “I mean, everyone does. Everyone likes Arthur.” 

“I don’t,” Merlin rolled his eyes. “You should have seen the tantrum he was throwing earlier because I hadn’t pressed one of his jackets. He’s so spoilt.” 

“Oh, you like him really,” Gwen smiled and nudged him back, and Merlin looked over at the prince, sitting up at the high table and smiling at Morgana. Couldn’t he see the deception in her eyes? The murderous intent? The man was going to get himself killed one day. But that was why Merlin stuck around – to stop that happening. All in vain hope of eventually being rewarded in some small way for his efforts. 

“No I don’t," he pretended to act snooty for Gwen’s amusement. “He’s bad-tempered, foul-mouthed and he’s always throwing things at me.” 

“He’s not foul-mouthed,” Gwen laughed and Merlin shook his head, widening his eyes mock-knowingly. 

“That’s what you think. He’s nice to you. You should see what he’s like when it’s just him and me.” 

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen smiled, not believing him. Merlin smiled and looked back at the high table. Of course she wouldn’t believe him. Who would? Someone had to bear the brunt of Arthur’s temper, and as his manservant, of course it would be him. Only that morning, Arthur had thrown one of his helmets at him when Merlin had mentioned Gwen. He was getting far too touchy about the subject, in Merlin’s opinion. After all, Merlin had known about it all along, and he’d helped them out on occasion. Would it be too much to ask for a thank you? He snorted to himself. Was the sky blue? 

Up at the high table, Arthur threw back his head and laughed at something, and Merlin watched and wished he would laugh like that for him. Stupid infatuation. Clearly, pushing Gwen and Arthur together wasn’t helping at all. 

x 

“You sent for me, father?” Arthur’s voice was deep, the solemn one he used when speaking publically to the king. 

“I did,” Uther nodded and handed a document to a clerk. “A man came from the Greendale Valleys yesterday to warn us of some creature that’s taken refuge in a cave there. It’s terrorising the locals and preventing them from gathering their winter stores from the forest. I want you ride out tomorrow and destroy it, do you understand me? The man will be your guide.” 

Arthur nodded. “It will be done, sire.” 

“See that it is,” Uther said sternly, dismissing his son with a wave of his hand. Arthur bowed and walked away, Merlin a step behind him, as usual. They stopped before reaching the door, and Merlin saw why as he looked up – a stranger dressed in furs was leaning in the shadows there. Arthur surveyed him regally. 

“I take that you are our guide?” 

The man nodded, unsmiling, and bowed slightly. “Thomas, sire, at your service.” 

“Have you seen the creature?” Arthur asked promptly. 

Thomas shook his head. “It has no body, sire. It whispers from the woods, scaring folks away. Animals won’t go near either, sire.” 

Arthur frowned. “If you haven’t seen it, how do you know it has no body?” 

“My brother in law tried to hunt it, with other men from my village,” Thomas told him, “they got into the cave, and said there wasn’t nothing in there, just a voice. Cold and mocking, they said. Cruel and harsh.” 

“What did it do?” Arthur pressed. 

Thomas shifted uneasily. “Nothing, sire,” he admitted finally. “It just spoke to them.” 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I see.” 

Thomas hastened to assert himself. “They wouldn’t say what it said to them, sire, but it must’ve been terrible.” 

“How come?” Arthur clearly wasn’t taken in by Thomas’ story, and Merlin didn’t blame him. 

“Well,” Thomas floundered. “Because they won’t speak of it, sire.” 

“Mm hm,” Arthur nodded once, slowly. “Very well. We’ll leave at dawn tomorrow, get an early start. We won’t be taking any knights, because they’re all very busy at the moment. It’s a two day ride to the Greendale Valleys, and I want to do this as quickly as possible.” 

“Yes, sire.” Thomas bowed and Arthur nodded again, leaving the hall. 

“That wouldn’t be because of the tournament next week, would it, sire?” Merlin inquired innocently as they walked back to Arthur’s chambers. 

“Whatever gave you that idea, Merlin?” Arthur asked, dangerously sweetly. 

“Nothing,” Merlin shrugged. “Only that you’ve been going on about it for about a month now. It would be _dreadful_ if you missed it.” 

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur agreed, far too cheerfully, as they entered his chambers. “Which is why you’re coming with me.” 

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “I never thought I wasn’t. I’ve started to assume I’m going with you on these daft quests.” 

“Well you do come in handy,” Arthur shrugged, taking his sword and thrusting it at Merlin, who set about strapping it round his waist. “You carry the bags.” 

“Mmm,” Merlin knelt and pulled the leather tight around Arthur’s hips. Things like this didn’t help his mental state, he decided. 

“You’re useless, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, and Merlin straightened, affronted. 

“What’ve I done now?” 

“Well,” Arthur shrugged and moved away, “you seem incapable of holding a decent conversation, for starters.” 

“What?” Merlin gaped indignantly. “I don’t believe you! You complain when I talk, you complain when I don’t – can I do anything right?” 

Arthur grinned. “No.” 

Merlin scowled, not amused. “You’re not funny, you know.” 

Arthur drew himself up haughtily. “I’ll have you know that I’m hilarious.” 

“Oh,” Merlin nodded sarcastically and turned away to pick up Arthur’s boots. “Really.” 

Arthur snorted and kicked Merlin’s butt so he overbalanced and fell forward to the floor. “Really.” 

Merlin glared at him, and Arthur laughed. Merlin sighed and got to his feet, squashing the melting feeling inside his chest. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might like some respect every now and again?” 

Arthur pulled a considering face, then shook his head unconcernedly. “No, not really.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and bent to pick up the boots. “No, of course not.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur asked sharply, and Merlin shrugged. 

“Well for that thought to occur, you’d have to be thinking of somebody other than yourself,” he explained, not letting Arthur see the hint of a smile that was playing round his lips. He knew the bickering was a game, and he knew Arthur knew, and he knew Arthur knew that he knew. It was just the way they worked. “I realise how ridiculous that is now, of course,” he mockingly reassured the prince as he took his boots to the table, ready to be polished. 

“Merlin?” Arthur smiled dangerously, and Merlin turned innocently, not letting on that he knew what was coming. 

“Yes, Arthur?” 

Arthur pushed Merlin into the table. “Shut up.” 

“Yes, sire.” Merlin turned away so that Arthur wouldn’t see his smile. Gods, he thought to himself despairingly. When had he become such a masochist? 

x 

That night, Merlin left Arthur’s chambers late and decided to take the long way back to his room, past Lady Morgana’s chambers. It was a precaution more than anything, but Merlin still startled when Thomas stepped out of a corridor in front of him. 

Acting on instinct, Merlin slipped behind a statue of a rearing horse as Thomas looked around so that he wouldn’t be seen. More sure that he was alone, Thomas walked on, and Merlin frowned as he turned the corner to Morgana’s corridor. All the sneaking around he did had served to make Merlin naturally suspicious, especially when it came to the cunning lady, so he followed Thomas, peeping round the corner just in time to se a hand flash out from under the staircase leading up to Morgana’s chambers and grab Thomas’ shoulder. 

“Thomas,” Morgana stepped into view and smiled. Thomas bowed deeply. 

“My lady. The Lady Morgause sends her regards.” 

“Is my sister well?” Morgana asked eagerly. 

Thomas nodded. “Last time I saw her.” 

“Excellent,” she smiled. “And our plan is going well?” 

“Yes, my lady,” Thomas said respectfully. “The prince and his manservant will accompany me to the monster’s cave. We will reach the valleys by the day after tomorrow, gods willing. But can I ask, my lady?” he hesitated, and Morgana nodded. 

“Go on.” 

“Why is it so important that the prince’s manservant accompany him?” Thomas blurted, and Morgana smiled nastily. 

“Merlin is no ordinary manservant. He has a great number of secrets, of that I am sure.” 

“Secrets the prince is not privy to?” Thomas guessed. 

“Most certainly not,” Morgana smiled. “This is the perfect opportunity to get rid of Merlin. He’s interfered in our plans far too many times.” 

“You will shall be done, my lady.” Thomas bowed. 

“And you shall be rewarded on your return to Camelot,” Morgana handed him a small pouch of money. “Morgause will give you the rest when the job is done.” 

“It is an honour, my lady,” Thomas squeezed the pouch and grinned. “And a pleasure, of course.” 

Morgana smiled and stepped away, making her way up the staircase. “Good luck, Thomas,” she said. He bowed once more and walked away. Merlin, hidden just around the corner, bit his lip and turned away to take the other route back to Gaius’ chambers. 

x 

“Well?” Merlin asked, having just told Gaius what he’d seen. “What do you think?” 

Gaius frowned and sat back in his chair. “I think you’re going to have to be very careful. Have you considered not going?” 

“But I have to go,” Merlin insisted. “What if they do something to Arthur? I need to be there to protect him.” 

“Hmmm,” Gaius frowned harder. “That is true. Well then, you’ll just have to be extra careful.” He levelled a stern gaze at Merlin. “I mean it, Merlin. Don’t take your eyes off this Thomas for a moment. Could you take the staff just in case?” 

Merlin snorted. “Have you seen the size of the thing? No way could I get that past Arthur. I’ll just have to be constantly on guard,” he sighed, “I’m looking forward to it already. Can you wake me up early tomorrow? We’re leaving at dawn, and I need to get everything ready.” 

“Of course,” Gaius nodded. “Now off to bed with you. You’ll need to be well rested for the days ahead.” 

“Thank you, Gaius,” Merlin smiled half-heartedly as he went to his room. Something occurred to him suddenly and he turned. “Gaius?” 

“Mm?” The old man looked up. 

“Do you have any idea what the monster could be? Something that hides in a cave and speaks to people?” 

Gaius shook his head. “I can’t be sure, Merlin. There’s not exactly much to go on is there? And we don’t have time to look now. You’ll just have to be on guard and hope for the best, I’m afraid.” 

Merlin sighed. “Yeah. Night, Gaius.” 

“Goodnight.” 

x 

Merlin hated waking up before dawn. That was chiefly why he didn’t like winter – he had to wake up when it was still dark and it made him want to curl up and go back to sleep. That and the cold, and the shortage of food. Though there was never a shortage of food in Camelot, he’d noticed, except for when there was magical interference. One of the many advantages of city life. Or a servant’s life, anyway. 

“Wake up, sire,” he sang as he barged into Arthur’s chambers. This was the part of winter mornings he did like, however. Making Arthur as grumpy as Merlin felt was no less a reward than he deserved, he had long ago decided. “Rise and shine!” he heard the pillow as it sailed through the air and ducked just in time. “You were the one who wanted us ready by dawn,” he told the prince reproachfully. A growl was all he got in reply, and Merlin sighed. “I brought breakfast?” 

“Go away,” Arthur grumbled. “It’s too early.” 

“As always, I agree,” Merlin nodded, inching closer to the bed. “But if I let you sleep in, you’ll only shout at me for not getting you up. So...” he grabbed the sheets at the foot of the bed and gave them an almighty tug. Arthur roared as the cold air assailed his body and sat up, scrabbling blindly for the blankets in the dark. Merlin pulled them off the bed and dashed to the other side of the room. 

“Breakfast is over here, sire. Hot porridge?” 

“I hate you, Merlin,” Arthur snapped, rolling out of bed and snatching a sheet off the floor to wrap himself in as he came to sit at the table. “Get the fire going.” 

“You hate mornings, sire,” Merlin corrected. “And there’s no point – you’re only eating and getting dressed and then we’re leaving.” 

Arthur made a sound that sounded like, “Bah!” and sunk in his chair moodily, spooning porridge into his mouth. Merlin sighed and went to make the bed. Mornings never failed to be fun when Arthur was around. 

x 

Thomas met them in the courtyard and led them out of Camelot. They rode all day, only stopping twice, and stopped to make camp just before dusk fell. “We’ve made good time,” Thomas sounded pleased as Merlin coaxed life into the fire, “we should reach the caves by noon tomorrow.” 

“Excellent,” Arthur nodded. “We’ll start out early tomorrow as well. Merlin, can you wake us?” 

“Not if you want to get up before noon,” Merlin grinned, and Arthur smiled reluctantly, rolling his eyes. 

“Useless. Why do I keep you?” 

“Because you like to torture me,” Merlin shrugged. “It’s the only reason I can think of.” 

“It’s more like I’m torturing myself,” Arthur snorted and threw a stick at him. It hit Merlin’s shoulder lightly, but didn’t hurt, and he grinned obnoxiously at Arthur in response. 

Thomas watched them without saying anything, and Merlin wondered how much he knew about them. It was possible that he was merely doing Morgause’s bidding for money, which looked like a rare thing in the Greendale Valleys. It didn’t look like he had any magic at least, which Merlin was grateful for. But he was worried about Morgana’s insistence that he accompany Arthur. How would this monster get rid of him? What did she and her sister know that he didn’t? 

The questions rattled uncomfortably in Merlin’s brain as he wrapped himself up in his blankets and fell asleep. 

x 

When they broke camp the next morning, the horses were spooked. When his own reared for the third time, Arthur snapped. “For goodness sakes!” ,e shouted, trying to pull it round to face the path again as it turned in circles, snorting edgily. “What is wrong with them today?” 

“It’s the woods, sire,” Thomas told him, frowning as his horse skittered and rolled its eyes. “When the monster came, our own horses bolted. Broke down their fences and ran. None of the animals like being so near to something so unnatural.” 

“We’re close then?” Arthur asked, trying to kick his horse forward. 

“Aye, sire,” Thomas pointed to the path ahead, which sloped down into a thicker part of the forest. “Down yonder hill and into the valley. There lies the cave.” 

Merlin patted his horse’s neck in an attempt to sooth it, but then something rustled in the grass to the right and it whinnied in fear, slamming its front legs down again and again. “Arthur, I think we should walk,” Merlin yelled, trying to stay in the saddle. 

Arthur sighed and dismounted smoothly. “Yes. We’ll get nowhere at this rate. We’ll lead them back up the path and hide them in the trees.” 

Thomas and Merlin slid off their horses a lot less gracefully than Arthur, and tethered their mounts to a rowan tree further up the hill. They were much calmer, but still rolled their eyes and tossed their heads if their riders approached. 

“Animals have the knowing of it,” Thomas told them as they descended into the valley on foot, Arthur carrying the unlit torches. “We didn’t know the creature was there for a while, but the animals did. I remember waking one morn to see snakes and foxes running and slithering away through the village without looking twice at the chickens, they were so frightened. Tis a reddish thing that dwells in that cave.” 

“I’ve no doubt,” Arthur said, and Merlin could tell by his tone that he was far more wary than he had been in Camelot. 

Merlin himself was apprehensive, and now not only of Thomas’ mysterious plans. He had never heard of a creature that scared animals so much that they fled from its presence. And the valley and forest themselves were the perfect place for such a beast to settle in. Dark and misty, they were like the haunted woods from the stories Merlin’s mother had told to him when he was a child. 

The sky was a nondescript white-grey, and though it was autumn back in Camelot, red-brown-orange-yellow leaves carpeting the woods, it seemed to be winter here already. And although logic said that more light should filter through the branches with no leaves to stop it, there seemed to be so many branches that they blocked the light from the sky and created a close, claustrophobic atmosphere that gave Merlin the creeps. 

“How far now?” Arthur said softly, probably not realising that he was close to whispering. 

“Not far,” Thomas replied, also keeping his voice down, “just around the next grove.” 

“Are you coming in?” Merlin asked quietly, and as expected, Thomas shook his head emphatically. 

“Oh no, this is no job for me.” 

Suddenly, a breeze whipped past them, making a low rustling sound, almost like whispering. 

“Can you hear that?” Merlin breathed. 

“Yes,” Arthur sounded grim. “We must be very close now.” He drew his sword, and Merlin swallowed, pulling his own free from its scabbard and thanking the stars that he had thought to bring it. 

They walked forward slowly, and through the mist, a dark hole appeared, surrounded by raised rocks and smaller stones. Merlin shivered, feeling fear spread through him like a stain. 

“There’s the cave.” Thomas sounded petrified, and Merlin really didn’t blame him. Only Arthur seemed to be unafraid, facing the cave mouth calmly. 

“Very well,” Arthur said, not turning to face him. “Go back and wait with the horses, Thomas. If we’re not back by sundown, go to your village and organise a search party.” 

“Yes, sire,” Thomas bowed slightly and then bolted. Merlin wished he could do the same as the chilly breeze started up again, pushing them towards the cave this time. He could hear a voice, a low whispering, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. 

“You don’t have to come with me, Merlin,” Arthur told him, and Merlin laughed weakly. 

“Yes I do. Who else is going to save your neck when you get into trouble?” 

“You can barely hold a sword upright, Merlin,” Arthur mocked, and Merlin smiled slightly, seeing what he was doing. Bickering to distract from the fear. 

“Well it’s always been enough to save your thick neck.” 

“My neck isn’t thick!” Arthur cried, outraged, and Merlin grinned. 

“Of course not, sire. I meant your waistline.” 

“And I am not fat,” Arthur growled, inching closer to the cave mouth. 

“I never said you were,” Merlin said smoothly, following him slowly, and Arthur snorted. 

“Did so.” 

“Did not.” 

“Did so.” 

“Did – did you hear that?” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s shoulder, stopping him entering the cave. 

“Hear what?” Arthur asked tightly, the tension returning in an instant. 

“I thought I heard a laugh.” Merlin stared wide-eyed into the cave, trying in vain to penetrate the darkness. 

Normally, Arthur would have told him he was an idiot, or that he was imagining things, but this time he only shook his head. “We can’t turn back now. Come on.” He stepped away from Merlin’s hand and into the dark. It swallowed him immediately, and the hairs all over Merlin’s body stood on end. Dark shouldn’t work like that, he thought a little hysterically, but steeled himself and followed Arthur without looking back. 

Inside, he couldn’t see a thing. “Arthur?” he whispered loudly. “Arthur?” Suddenly, fire sprang into life ahead of him, and Merlin’s heart jumped with relief. “Arthur!” 

“Quiet, Merlin,” Arthur snapped, and handed Merlin a burning torch. “Follow me.” He turned and walked ahead slowly, sword out and ready, reflecting the flames in its blade. 

The tunnel was narrow and pitch black beyond the circle of light the torches offered. And just beyond reach of translation was that muttering whisper, ushering them on. It was a shock when the tunnel suddenly opened up into a huge cavern, and the whispering stopped abruptly. Merlin could feel his chest shaking, making his breathing uneven. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so scared, but Arthur’s hand on his sword was as steady as if he was on the training grounds at Camelot, and Merlin borrowed strength from him. If Arthur wasn’t afraid, he didn’t need to be either. 

Of course, that was before the cave started to rumble, and the voice that had been whispering, finally spoke audibly. 

“ **Welcome, clay-children, eaters of dirt and dust and creators of deception.** ” 

Arthur whirled around, brandishing his sword, but the voice seemed to be echoing from the walls. It was not a human voice with a gender, but more like how Merlin imagined a cat would sound – purring, rumbling, silky, but old and cracked and dark with wickedness. 

It laughed like an old man. “ **Ha ha ha ha…no, little princeling, you cannot find me, or see me or harm me. Why not simply stay _still_?** ” at his last word, Arthur froze, and Merlin sucked in a shocked breath. 

“Arthur? Arthur?” he rushed forward and grabbed Arthur’s shoulders, but Arthur couldn’t move. Couldn’t even look at him, or blink. 

“ **The servant speaks,** ” the voice said softly, and now Merlin imagined it to be a snake, coiling around him with scales of darkness. 

“Let him go!” Merlin shouted, sounding braver than he felt. 

“ **Ah, I am no snake, boy, nor a cat.** ” The voice chuckled, and Merlin’s spine chilled. 

“How did you –?” 

“ **You have come to my domain now, clay-child,** ” the voice boomed, triumphant. “ **And now you are mine in mind and body.** ” 

Merlin looked at Arthur, whose eyes were beginning to water. “Let him go.” 

A breeze sighed through the cave, and Arthur jerked into life, blinking furiously and breathing hard. “What are you?” he shouted to the ceiling, and the voice laughed again. 

“ **Ha ha ha…I am a monster, did they not tell you? Little frightened clay-children with so many _secrets,_** ” it hissed excitedly. “ **For that is what I do, prince of men. I reveal the hearts of those who stray into my path. Their true hearts, with all their lies and loves and fears. And until I am done, none may leave.** ” It fell into a pleased silence. 

Merlin took a deep breath and then jumped as the voice spoke in a way he recognised – only to him, only to his mind. It was extremely disconcerting, hearing words through the mind and not the ears. 

 **Servant boy, your mind is rich with lies and secrets.** It sounded positively delighted. **And I see what you feel for this princeling.**  

 _Don’t tell him_ , Merlin thought back frantically, eyes on Arthur as he swung his torch around, trying to see beyond the light. 

 **Ah, but that is what I do.** The voice crept through Merlin’s mind, and he shivered, feeling nausea rise in his stomach **. Do you feel this, clay-child?**  it whispered. **Feel how it is to be exposed like this? Naked, without defence? Do you wish this upon your prince?**  

 _No._ Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to heave up his breakfast. He felt cold sweat break out on his forehead and under his arms. 

 **Then you will allow me to reveal your heart,**  the voice hissed. **Do this, and I will leave him be. Swear to it!**  

Merlin groaned, and opened his eyes to see Arthur turn to him. “Merlin?” his face was so open, worried and defensive at once. He had to protect him. That was his destiny. And if he was hurt in the process, then so be it. 

 _I swear,_  he thought, and thought he could hear the voice grinning. 

 **Good clay-child.** It slithered out of his mind and left Merlin gasping for air and doubled over. 

“Merlin, what is it?” Arthur was at his side, grabbing his shoulders and holding him up. “What happened?” 

Merlin swallowed and straightened to look Arthur in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, knowing he didn’t have much time. “For everything, I am so sorry.” 

Arthur stared at him. “Merlin, what are you talking about?” 

Merlin gripped his arms tight and looked desperately into his eyes. “Don’t think any less of me,” he begged. 

“ **Come to me, servant boy,** ” the voice boomed, and Merlin caught his breath as his legs moved and began to walk on their own, pulling him away from Arthur and towards what he guessed was the centre of the cavern. There was a dais of raised rock, and he clambered onto it clumsily, shaking. Everything was going to end now. 

“ **Prince Arthur Pendragon,** ” the voice said loudly with the air of announcing a show. “ **You think you know all there is to know about your manservant, but you are so _very_ wrong. I will reveal to you his heart, stripped bare of untruths and misconceptions. I will begin with the one you would suspect the least.** ” 

Merlin tried to speak, but found that he could not. His body was rooted in place, fixed on the dais, facing Arthur. He could only move slightly, shuffling his feet, clenching and unclenching his muscles and moving his head. He turned away from Arthur as much as he could, not wanting to see his face when he found out. Because he knew exactly which secrets were about to be revealed, and it was going to kill him. 

“ **Your magic-hating, foolish, loyal servant has been hiding a terrible secret from the moment of his birth,** ” the voice told Arthur in a quieter voice, relishing every word. “ **And do you know what it is?** ” 

“No,” Arthur whispered, and Merlin could feel his stare burning into him, confused and a little scared, but mostly worried. Gods, it was breaking his heart. 

“ **A secret that would see him killed were it discovered,** ” the voice continued, echoing around them, “e **specially in your father’s kingdom, princeling. Because clumsy, faithful Merlin is in fact a sorcerer, one of the most powerful in the land.** ” 

Arthur let out a burst of relieved laughter and then shook his head. “Lies. You’re lying to me.” 

“ **I do not lie, clay prince,** ” the voice hissed. “ **I reveal them. I know that you fear the burden of the crown, and that you cried for your mother on the night you met her in a spell-worked apparition.** ” Arthur’s smile faded and the voice snorted. “ **I know that your father struck you across the face when you were fourteen and cut your cheek with his ring. I see everything, prince of men, and everything I say is true.** ” 

Merlin struggled, trying to shout at the voice to stop doing that to Arthur, and there was a rush of air above them. “ **But I forget; it is the boy I am examining, not the prince. And the prince now knows that what I say is true – Merlin the manservant is a creature of magic. He has worked many spells and enchantments since his arrival in Camelot, and conceals much within his heart. All in good time.** ” It sighed happily, and Merlin had the sense of a sadistic doctor taking a moment to clean his equipment before setting to work at a dissection. 

“ **We will begin at the beginning,** ” it decided, and Merlin ducked his head. “ **Gaius knows of the boy’s powers – found out before he even knew his name. Merlin now considers this man to be a father and would do almost anything for him, as we will soon discover…** ” 

Merlin listened in silent agony as the cruel voice went through every incident with perfect clarity and devastating ruthlessness. Under its scrutiny, nothing was hidden. It told Arthur how Merlin scorned him when they first met, and told the Dragon that any who tried to kill him would be welcome. It revealed even small things that Merlin had almost forgotten, like when Gwen had kissed him. He heard Arthur’s shocked intake of breath and looked at him, trying to judge his reaction. 

The prince’s face was ashen, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes wide as he stared and stared and stared, not saying a word as the creature continued to tell the truth behind every lie Merlin had ever told. It was actually quite surprising, just how much he had been concealing, a detached part of Merlin’s mind thought. It could have filled pages, the number of secrets he was keeping. 

Lancelot knew about his magic, he had killed Edwin with magic, he had known Morgana had magic – he couldn’t imagine Arthur’s mental reaction to that; he was showing nothing on his face beyond a shell-shocked expression – he had killed Sophia and Aulfric, helped Morgana hide the Druid boy and almost not helped him escape on the Dragon’s advice. 

He had let Will take the blame for his magic when he died, and when he had gone into the forest to collect firewood the next evening, he had sat down on a log and cried for an hour. The secrets got worse the longer he knew Arthur. The creature told the prince that Merlin had almost let Morgana kill Uther and only gone to save him at the last moment. It exposed the whole Isle of the Blessed episode, when Merlin had attempted to exchange his life for Arthur’s and almost ended up killing his mother and Gaius in the process, only saving them by killing Nimueh. 

Merlin kept his eyes averted most of the time, unable to meet Arthur’s, but when the voice crowed that Merlin had promised to release the Dragon from under the castle, Merlin peeked to see Arthur’s eyes narrow just a little; the first sign of anger he had seen. He looked away quickly, hanging his head and shivering with shame as the voice told Arthur that Cornelius Sigan had offered to let Merlin join him, and that Merlin had been tempted. Had wanted to show what he could do, the incredible power that lay within him, and prove to Arthur that he was worthy of his attention and respect. But he had refused and imprisoned the sorcerer’s soul in the jewel once more, resigning himself to exist as Arthur’s servant and nothing more. 

Arthur stood frozen as the voice described Merlin’s attempt to help Morgana by telling her how to find the Druids, and the way he had followed her when Arthur went on the hunt. 

“ **It is at this moment,** ” the voice changed its tone suddenly, taking a break from its narrative, “ **that we must address an issue in Merlin’s heart that can no longer be ignored.** ” 

Merlin felt a cold steel band clamp itself around his chest and opened his mouth, trying in vain to shout and scream – anything to drown out what he knew the voice was going to say next. 

The voice made a strange hissing purr and spoke again. “ **When Merlin returns to the city, Morgana safe in her chambers once more, Arthur mistakenly concludes that his servant has feelings for the beautiful lady and warns him that relations between masters and servants can never be consummated. It is now that Merlin, whose feelings have been growing almost unnoticed in his heart, examines how he feels about the prince.**  

“ **Perhaps he knew when he went to offer his life for Arthur’s at the Isle of the Blessed, or when he is cruelly replaced by Cedric, but whenever it started, Merlin now knows the truth in his heart of hearts. He is in love with Arthur.** ” 

Merlin couldn’t look at Arthur. He was shaking with misery, humiliated and defeated. He felt his head turning without being able to control it and he opened his eyes, forced to face Arthur, who was staring at him with an open mouth and a slight touch of what Merlin thought must be disgust and horror. He felt a tear trickle down from the corner of his left eye and squeezed his eyes shut again. 

The voice chuckled and continued in its story. “ **Merlin, Arthur’s ever-loyal servant with the hidden magical gifts, is in love with the prince. Late that night, he thinks back on what Arthur told him and resolves never to tell his master. He will stay silent and encourage the blossoming romance between Arthur and Gwen. He decides that even if he has to go through life alone, his friends deserve to be happy.**  

“ **All the same, when he and Arthur set out to rescue said damsel from the bandit who thinks she is the Lady Morgana and Arthur reveals his feelings for the lovely Guinevere by the riverside, Merlin cannot help but wish it is him in Gwen’s place. He knows though that Arthur would never feel that way for him, and puts it firmly from his mind. It is difficult, but when he sees the looks Gwen is exchanging with Lancelot, the foremost thought is hoping that Arthur is not hurt. But the only damage done is applied to Gwen, when her Lancelot is gone the next morning. Only Merlin knows the truth – that Lancelot saw the looks between Gwen and Arthur as well, and decided to leave so that they could be together…** ” 

It never ended. Merlin thought they must have been there for days, time passing faster under the surface of the earth than normal. The voice told Arthur that he conjured the smoke horse and accidentally brought the witchfinder to Camelot, of his abject terror at the thought of being tortured and burned alive. Time passed, and of course they came to Freya. 

Merlin tried not to think of the beautiful Druid girl he had fallen so hard for because it only brought him pain, but all of that was exposed under the creature’s examination. Everything. Even his fantasies of finding the perfect lake with mountains and a cow and building a house and living there with her, making candle-flames dance to make her smile. 

“ **It is the only time he has considered a future without Arthur,** ” the voice announced. “ **A future where he lives his own life, uninhibited by magic-restricting laws and endless chores. And he finds that he likes the idea. No great destiny, no pressure – just him and Freya, happy together.**  

“ **But such things are not to be, for the girl is cursed and Arthur unknowingly kills her despite Merlin’s attempts to distract him. He brings the dying Freya to the lake where he disposed of the sword and burns her body in a boat. He doesn’t stay to watch it sink, but goes to his room to cry that night. He thinks that his destiny can never be avoided, and cannot bring himself to hate Arthur for killing his love. He thinks that he will remain alone forevermore, deciding that it was never his fate to be anything more than a friend to anyone.** ” 

Merlin didn’t remember thinking such things so exactly, but he knew the creature was right. He did believe he would never find love the way Arthur had, and it was not his luxury to search it out either – he had a prince to protect. 

The secrets rolled on. So many – Merlin hadn’t realised that he had been keeping so many. It was a sobering thought. Not as sobering as whatever Arthur’s reaction would be if they both got out of this in one piece though, he thought, wincing as the voice reminded him of seeing the imminent destruction of Camelot in the Crystal of Neahtid. 

Merlin had to check Arthur’s reaction when the voice told him how Merlin had poisoned Morgana. It admitted that Merlin had been tortured by his decision for weeks afterwards, but then said that he had eventually decided that Morgana was an enemy, and therefore the poison had been necessary. 

This time, it was Arthur who didn’t look at Merlin. He ducked his head and took several deep breaths, but didn’t say anything. The voice, satisfied, went on to confirm Arthur’s suspicions by telling him that it was indeed Merlin who had released the Dragon, bound to his promise as he was. Arthur’s head snapped up and he met Merlin’s eyes furiously. Merlin flinched as though he had been hit, but didn’t look away, trying to plead for mercy with his eyes alone. Arthur turned his face away, his expression stony, and Merlin began to despair. 

He could only hope that Arthur would be distracted by Morgana’s many betrayals and the way Merlin kept trying to stop her but was always just a step behind. Her list of crimes was not small. Since her return in Camelot, she had cursed Uther into madness, raised an army of skeletons and given Arthur a cursed bracelet to name but a few. Then of course, her parentage was revealed. Arthur’s jaw properly dropped when he heard the voice describe Merlin overhearing Uther beg Gaius to resort to magic to save Morgana because she was really his daughter. 

They were close to the end now. Merlin felt like collapsing – he was only held up by the invisible force keeping him in place. Only the death of the manticore to bring them up to date now, and soon enough, that rolled around, with the revelation of Gaius’ own magical abilities. 

“ **And for this excursion, for which I was ordered to reveal only certain aspects of Merlin’s heart, Merlin knows that Morgana is paying your guide a handsome sum to lead you here. Her sister told me to only reveal Merlin’s secret feelings and attack on Morgana to the prince, but I am not some toy to be played with.** ” 

 _What are you then?_ Merlin thought, exhausted. 

The voice chuckled. “ **Why not speak your question, little warlock?** ” 

Merlin opened his mouth and found that he could speak again. His voice was cracked when he asked, “What are you?” 

“ **I am a creature like none in this world,** ” the voice snarled, raising its voice to a bellow. “ **Offspring of nightmare and mythic lynx, I am the thing you fear most. I am eternal as the sky, unending as the sea.** ” 

“What is your name?” Merlin shouted, forcing Arthur from his mind. 

The voice merely laughed. “ **Name?** ” it scorned, “n **ames are meaningless. I have no name, little sorcerer. I am darkness itself, and I am done with you.** ” 

The force holding Merlin up vanished and he collapsed in a heap with a thud, only just managing to tense his neck so that his head didn’t crack against the rock. He pressed his face against the cold stone and trembled, feeling sick. He felt empty. Totally empty. He had been chained up and exposed in every way, and now he was discarded like a used rag doll. He was freezing. Something pressed against his back, and before he knew it, Merlin had been shoved with such force that he flew off the dais and crumpled against the wall by the entrance tunnel. He ached all over. 

“ **And now,** ” the voice hissed, and Merlin could imagine it baring teeth, if it had any, “t **he prince of the clay-children. Arthur Pendragon, what is in your heart?** ” 

“No,” Merlin whispered, turning his head to see Arthur’s eyes widen as he dropped the torch and stepped forward, unable to stop himself. “No, no you promised!” Fury flooded into his veins, lending him strength enough to struggle to his feet. “You said you would leave him alone!” he yelled to the ceiling, and the voice laughed uproariously. 

“ **I promised nothing, fool. Now be _quiet_.** ” 

Merlin felt his throat constrict, but clenched his fists and forced his magic to rise and break the spell. After all, he had no need to be careful now – Arthur knew everything. 

“ _Mec clipung onuppan þæs fífmægen ácolitus æt geondféolan þes rúmnes!_ ” he shouted, feeling the power surge behind his words. “ _Æt blícan onuppan mín bebodræden!_ ” he was getting better at crafting spells on the spot. There was silence for a moment, and the creature spoke uncertainly. 

“ **What did you do?** ” 

“This,” Merlin narrowed his eyes and flung out his hand. “ _Nú_.” 

Light, bright and white as the centre of the sun, beamed from his palm silently, showing the size of the cavern for a few moments before its intensity swallowed details. Merlin covered his eyes with his arm, hoping that Arthur would have the presence of mind to do the same as the creature began to scream, high-pitched and inhuman. The light shone so brightly that there was nothing else. No shadows or darkness at all. It flooded down the tunnel, unable to be contained, and the mouth of the cave glowed. 

Abruptly, the screaming ended, and Merlin let the light fade away into nothingness. He dropped his arm from his eyes and found the glow of Arthur’s torch on the floor, and Arthur himself on the edge of it, turned in his direction. Dark shadows on his face made it impossible to see his expression, and Merlin felt energy surge in him suddenly on primeval instinct. Fight or flight? 

Flight, his legs decided, jerking him round and speeding him out of the tunnel. He heard Arthur start to run after him and gasped, stretching his hands out in front of him and praying for the cave mouth to appear soon. It did, and Merlin charged out into the deadened forest, stumbling a little on the leaves that covered the earth. His legs kept pumping furiously though, and they propelled him fast up the slope. He had to get away, he had to run and hide. 

His breath burned in his chest, his throat sucking in air in ragged pants. He was still cold, and his skin felt clammy under his clothes. He wanted to fall over and sleep for a week, but he could hear leaves and branches being crushed by feet behind him – Arthur was hot on his heels, and catching up fast. 

Merlin moaned in fear and used the thin trees surrounding him to pull himself further up the hill, not daring to look around to check Arthur’s progress. The ground evened out and Merlin lurched forward, his body overbalancing and almost making him fall. The delay was just enough time for Arthur to appear behind him. Merlin tried to run forwards, but Arthur tackled him round the waist and brought them both crashing to the ground. Merlin grabbed handfuls of leaf litter and tried to haul himself away, but Arthur slammed his hands down on his arms and rolled him over so that he was lying on top him and they were face to face. Merlin stared up at the prince and thought that he would pass out from either shock or terror. 

“Why are you running?” Arthur shouted in his face, and Merlin sucked in a breath and met his eyes. 

“I’m running from you.” 

The pressure on his arms vanished as Arthur rose to his feet and stepped clear of Merlin’s legs in one fluid motion. He looked down at his servant in silence, and Merlin looked away. 

“I should let you keep running,” he finally said, hard and quiet. 

Merlin swallowed and pulled himself to his feet. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry,” Arthur repeated blankly, and then exploded. “You’re _sorry_? Well that’s not going to _cut it_ , Merlin! God…” he grabbed his head and spun in a half circle, trying to take everything in. “You’ve been lying to me since the day we met. Everything…oh, how could I have been so _blind_?” 

Merlin’s heart was still beating fast – he could feel it pounding against his lungs and in his throat. “What do you want me to say?” he asked, shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh,” Arthur stepped close, pressing his face right up to Merlin’s. “Oh, well as long as you’re _sorry_ , that’s okay. That’s just _fine_.” 

“I’m sorry, Arthur!” Merlin cried, and Arthur backed up a step but continued to glare at him. “There’s nothing I can do to make this better! There’s nothing I can say to fix this! What do you want from me?” 

“Your head,” Arthur snarled, clenching his hands into tight fists at his sides. “Tell me, Merlin, why shouldn’t I drag you back to Camelot and tell my father? What’s stopping me from killing you myself for breaking one of the kingdom’s most important laws?” 

Merlin shivered and hung his head. “I never hurt you, Arthur. You know I didn’t,” he laughed sadly and gestured to the direction they had run from. “It would have told you.” 

“But you have, Merlin,” Arthur hissed dangerously. “You’ve used magic wilfully in my presence, using it to trip me up and the like.” 

Merlin closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said again, feeling like he was made of wood. “I really am. I just…” 

“What?” Arthur spat. “What’s your excuse?” 

“I don’t have one,” Merlin met his eyes and didn’t flinch this time. “What do you want me to say? You know everything now. Everything. And I have nothing anymore,” he faltered, but went on. “There’s nothing of me _left_ , Arthur. Everything I am…is yours. And my life with it.” He frowned unhappily. “You have my life in your hands, Arthur. I wish I could turn back time and change things, but I can’t.” 

“Can’t you?” Arthur sneered, and threw his hands in the air. “God, Merlin, I don’t know anymore. I thought I could trust you.” 

“You can trust me!” Merlin cried. “Haven’t I proved that?” 

“By hiding these things from me?” Arthur asked incredulously. “Your magic, these deaths, Gaius’ involvement, _Morgana_ …my father, _our_ father…” he broke off and turned away. Merlin wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder to reassure him, but he had the feeling that he wouldn’t be well-received. “And…” Arthur turned back to him with an unreadable expression on his face. “Your…feelings for me.” 

Merlin flushed and looked down. “It wasn’t like I could tell you.” 

“Why not?” Arthur demanded. “I thought you…why didn’t you tell me?” 

Merlin looked up and gaped at him. “Are you mad? How could I tell you any of it? If I had come up to you in that first week and said that a giant reptile under the castle told me it was my destiny to protect you using the magic I happen to have, you wouldn’t have listened to me! You would have thrown me in the cells and your father would have executed me! And my feelings? God, Arthur, that’s _worse_!” 

Arthur frowned. “You could have told me about Morgana.” 

Merlin laughed bitterly. “Yeah right. You don’t ever listen to me, Arthur. Ever. And you think of Morgana as a sister. If I’d told you that she was an evil witch who keeps trying to kill you and Uther, what would you have done?” When Arthur didn’t answer, Merlin snorted. “You would’ve beaten seven shades of hell out of me, that’s what. You never listen to anything I say.” 

Arthur didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Merlin was close to speaking again when he looked up with a hard face. “I need to think. We’re going back to the horses. Come on. And don’t try to run off again,” he grabbed Merlin’s collar and shoved him forward, making him stumble and nearly fall. “Move!” 

Merlin wondered what he would do if Arthur did decide to try and take him back to Camelot to be sentenced to death. He had never thought about it before, not really. Could he run? But Arthur knew about Gaius too – he would have to warn his mentor. And if he left, how could he protect Arthur? Despite everything, that was still his destiny. But Arthur would either banish him or kill him. Neither option was particularly appealing. He tripped on a tree root suddenly and crashed to the ground. 

“Get up,” Arthur snapped, nudging his leg none-too-gently with the toe of his boot. 

Merlin spat out a rotting leaf and scrambled to his feet again. He felt hollow, like there weren’t even tears in him any more. The fear that the witchfinder had brought surfaced again, and the memories of the time that bounty hunter had nearly tortured him. Arthur had saved him then. Told the bounty hunter that Merlin had his absolute trust. 

He couldn’t help wondering what Arthur would do if Merlin was in that situation now. 

Thomas’ horse was missing, of course. “Where is he?” Arthur scowled, looking around as though he might materialise out of the forest. 

“Going back to Camelot,” Merlin reminded him dully. “To get the other half of his payment from Morgause.” 

Arthur turned to him with narrowed eyes, considering something. “He can have it,” he decided. “Morgana and Morgause are the real problems here. And you, of course.” 

Merlin looked down, avoiding his gaze. Arthur snorted and turned away, checking his horse before sitting down at the foot of a dead-looking elm. Merlin stared at him and swallowed, hesitating before forcing himself to ask. “What are you going to do?”

 

“About you, you mean?” Arthur looked up at him, eyes shadowed, and Merlin nodded. Arthur looked down at his knees. “I don’t know yet,” he barked a harsh laugh and looked at Merlin again. “Let’s debate it, shall we? What should I do with my magical, secret-keeping, traitorous servant?” 

“Please don’t kill me,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur frowned, not hearing him. 

“What?” 

Merlin cleared his throat and spoke up a little. “Don’t kill me. Please.” 

Arthur’s expression revealed nothing. “Why shouldn’t I, Merlin? Come on – argue with me here. I know you can. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t drag you back to Camelot to my father. Sit down," he gestured to another tree, and Merlin went to it slowly and slid down its trunk. Arthur levelled a glare at him. “Give me a reason, Merlin.” 

“I’ve saved your life,” Merlin met his eyes with difficulty. “Lots.” 

“Mmm,” Arthur frowned, “that messes things up a little.” 

A little trickle of Merlin’s normal fire came back to him and he narrowed his eyes. “You mean you wish it was clear-cut.” Arthur opened his mouth to issue some cutting remark, but Merlin cut him off. “No, don’t deny it – you wish this was a simple black and white case where magic is evil and so am I.” 

“You have no right –!” Arthur started, but Merlin interrupted him again. 

“You wanted me to argue on my behalf, sire, so I will,” he swallowed nervously. “I don’t want to die, Arthur. I’m only human.” 

“Are you?” Arthur shrugged nastily. “Magic isn’t a human thing, Merlin.” 

Merlin scowled. “You don’t know anything about magic! You don’t even know how it works, what it can do. Just because it’s harder to understand and master than waving a sword around, you hunt it thoughtlessly.” 

“And for good reason,” Arthur snapped. “Magic is evil –” 

“I’m not evil,” Merlin said softly, and Arthur paused. “Do you think I’m evil?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Arthur said slowly. “I…what should I do, Merlin?” he looked at Merlin for the first time with vulnerability. “I thought I knew you. I thought you were normal, and now I find out that you’ve been hiding all these secrets…I don’t know what to think anymore. Why couldn’t you have told me some of it?” 

“Which parts?” Merlin asked acidly. “The magic? Morgana’s true colours? Arthur, you wouldn’t have listened to me, or you would’ve had me put in the stocks or cells.” 

“Not if you had –” Arthur began, but Merlin cut him off. 

“You wouldn’t have listened to me,” he told him without doubt. “You don’t think I’m smart enough to have secrets, Arthur. I’m nothing more than a servant to you, and a stupid, clumsy one at that.” He could see Arthur was taken aback by his words, so he pressed his advantage. “I keep helping you, keep sticking my neck out for you because it’s what friends do, but you never give me so much as a thank you. You treat me like dirt, like your personal slave, and I put up with it because I know that one day you’ll be king, and you’ll be the best king there has ever been, and I want to be there to see it, and know that I helped you get there,” he finished, a little out of breath, and studied Arthur’s face, unsure of his reaction. 

“Why do you stay then?” Arthur asked finally, his tone flat. “What’s in this for you? Watching me?” 

Merlin frowned. “I…I kind of hoped that…” 

“I would return your affections?” Arthur asked. 

“No!” Merlin said forcefully. “I never expected that. I didn’t ever plan to tell you. Ever.” He blushed and looked away. “I tried to ignore it,” he mumbled. 

“What then?” Arthur pressed. “What did you hope?” 

Merlin looked up, his cheeks still red. “I wanted to tell you what I can do one day, and then you’d actually take me seriously. I didn’t want much. Just…a thank you, maybe. For everything.” 

“Everything,” Arthur repeated. 

“I’ve saved your life more times than I can count.” Merlin reminded him. “I was ready to give my _life_ for you, Arthur. I wanted you to acknowledge that, that’s all.” 

“You wanted to be rewarded,” Arthur said harshly, and Merlin scowled, rising to meet his gaze. 

“Stop twisting my words. I want you to be the king I know you can be. You’re already halfway there. Why is it so hard to believe that I just want to watch the other half and everything that comes after?” 

“Because you’re _Merlin_!” Arthur cried, getting to his feet and pacing agitatedly. “You’re a forgetful, clumsy idiot who can’t lie to save his life. The only times I think you might actually have a brain is when you come out with those little nuggets before I go into battle or something.” 

“Must be really hard to accept I can have higher thought processes,” Merlin remarked sourly, and jumped as Arthur turned sharply and appeared in front of him in two strides, bending down over him and pinning his shoulders tightly to the tree trunk at his back. 

“Shut up,” he said in a low, harsh snarl. “You have no right to speak to me like that, not now. You’ve flouted Camelot’s laws and my trust, and by all rights I should have you executed.” 

Merlin didn’t breathe as Arthur glared down at him for a moment more before releasing him with a particularly hard squeeze of his hands. “What are you going to do?” he asked him quietly. 

Arthur sighed and leaned his forehead against a tree trunk. “I don’t know. You’re not evil, but you use magic. You’ve stayed with me even though I’ve given the orders for your kind to be killed, but you’ve also taken advantage of the close position you have to me to help those with magic. You’ve saved my life, it’s true, but you’ve lied to my face and poisoned my sister. I don’t want to see you killed, but neither do I want to keep your secrets.” 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin told him honestly. “I never wanted you to know while your father was alive because of that.” 

“It wasn’t your choice to make,” Arthur told him harshly, then sighed and closed his eyes. “Can’t you turn back time? Or cast a spell on me to make me forget?” 

“Are you asking me to?” Merlin asked, surprised. 

“No!” Arthur protested. “No. But could you? Could you do those things?” 

Merlin shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how. Or even if I could. I can slow time down, but I can’t do anything else with it. And I don’t know of any spell that could make you forget this. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Arthur shook his head. “I shouldn’t be encouraging you,” he clenched his jaw and turned to lean his back against the tree. “Can’t you just stop?” he asked helplessly. 

“I wouldn’t,” Merlin said honestly. “If I’d stopped using magic when I came to Camelot, you’d be dead by now. I’m not going to stop, Arthur. Magic is all I know, and I’m _good_ at it,” he tried to make Arthur understand, pleading. “It’s the only thing I can really do well. Without my magic, I’m nothing. You can beat every man who faces you in combat, but I can make stone come to life and make things move without touching them. It’s how I protect you, Arthur. You must see that.” 

“I must do nothing,” Arthur snapped, but it seemed to be a more reflexive action than meant. “I should banish you,” he said softly, and Merlin got to his feet, shaking his head. 

“No, Arthur, you can’t.” 

“Why not?” Arthur looked at him. “You’d be alive.” 

“It’s my destiny to protect you,” Merlin protested. “How can I do that if I’m not allowed into Camelot? Where would I go, Arthur? I can’t do anything useful. And what about Gaius? And Morgana? Arthur, if you tried to stop her she’d kill you. You can’t stop her with a sword, Morgause either. You need magic to stop them, and you don’t have any.” 

Arthur couldn’t say anything to that, and he closed his eyes. “I need to think. Can you get a fire going?” 

Merlin nodded. “Sure.” 

Arthur stayed worryingly silent as Merlin assembled wood for a fire and briefly considered asking for the flint before shrugging to himself and lighting it with magic. “ _Baerne_.” As the flames burst into life, Arthur moved behind him. 

“Did you just use magic?” 

“You had the flint.” Merlin felt far calmer now that Arthur had said he didn’t want to kill him. That didn’t mean he didn’t yelp when Arthur kicked him in the small of the back. 

“Don’t use magic,” Arthur snapped, “alright?” 

“Alright, alright,” Merlin agreed, rubbing his back. “Ow.” 

“It’s not a joke, Merlin,” Arthur told him unkindly. “People have died for less.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He paused. “Have you finished thinking yet?” 

“Why do you like men?” Arthur asked unexpectedly, and Merlin blanched. He had hoped that Arthur would try and forget that issue, but apparently not. 

“I don’t,” he said carefully, feeding a small log to the fire and turning to face Arthur. “I like women.” 

“And me.” 

“And you,” Merlin admitted, feeling his face grow warm again. He ducked his head, humiliated. “Look, Arthur, do we have to talk about this?” 

“Yes,” Arthur said seriously, going round to the other side of the fire and sitting down. Merlin swivelled to face him. 

“Why?” he asked, pained. “It doesn’t make any difference. I never do anything wrong, or creepy. I don’t let it show at all. Can’t we just forget about it?” 

Arthur studied him from across the rising flames, and Merlin looked away uncomfortably. “For now then,” he said eventually, and Merlin sighed with relief. “What about Morgana?” 

“What about Morgana?” Merlin asked, confused, and Arthur rolled his eyes. For a second it was almost normal. “What do you think I should do? Confront her? Pretend I don’t know?” 

Merlin’s jaw dropped. “Are you actually asking me for advice?” 

Arthur shrugged with one shoulder. “You know more about it.” 

Merlin blinked. “Oh. Well, um…I don’t know, really. It depends on what we do when we get back. She’ll expect you to have killed me or something. And I don’t know whether she knows about my magic or not,” he let out a long breath and rubbed the back of his head. “If she knows, I’m dead.” 

“You think she’ll try to kill you?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows, and Merlin snorted lightly. 

“I think she’ll tell Uther and let him kill me. After all, who’s he going to believe? In his eyes, she can do no wrong,” he sighed. “I think you shouldn’t let on that you know about her. If she knows you know, she’ll try harder to kill you, and probably try and turn your father against you as well.” 

Arthur nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll decide on a story in a minute. Now we need to decide what to do with you.” 

Merlin gulped and poked the fire with a stick. “I can’t come back to Camelot with you?” 

“And then what?” Arthur asked. “I conceal this from my father? Let you practise magic in front of me? It’s against the law, Merlin. I’m the crown prince.” 

“You’ve broken the law before,” Merlin said, a little sulkily. “You helped the druid boy escape and refused to take taxes from the people.” 

“That was different,” Arthur argued. 

“How?” Merlin asked disbelievingly. “It was over quickly? That’s not fair, Arthur! I actually help you.” 

“That’s not the point,” Arthur insisted. “You’re still breaking the law.” 

“You can change the law when you’re king,” Merlin said quietly, and Arthur nodded once. 

“I can, but my father is strong and healthy. He’ll live for many years yet unless Morgana gets to him.” 

“Can’t you just keep this secret till then?” Merlin pleaded. “Please, Arthur? Now you know, I can help you even more.” 

“I don’t want magical help,” Arthur scowled. “It’s wrong, Merlin.” 

“You’ve taken it before,” Merlin told him. “You just didn’t know it.” 

Arthur shook his head, but didn’t reply for a moment, and when he did speak, he changed the subject. “If you could kill that creature in the cave, why didn’t you do it before it did that to you?” 

Merlin squirmed at the memory of the exposure. “I didn’t know I could for sure, and I didn’t want to do magic in front of you,” he admitted. “And it told me that if I let it do that to me, it would leave you alone.” 

Arthur stared at him, and Merlin ducked his head. “Why did you do that?” 

“I didn’t want you to go through that,” Merlin shrugged awkwardly. “It was horrible, Arthur. The worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He shivered despite the heat from the fire. “Like being put in the stocks naked and having the whole of Camelot laugh at me. And now I have nothing left to myself.” 

Arthur nodded. “Thank you, then.” 

Merlin smiled, just slightly. Maybe, in time, things between them would be alright. “You’re welcome.” He paused. “So…what about me staying with you?” 

“I need to think about it,” Arthur said heavily, not looking at Merlin. “Could you…I don’t know…get more firewood or something?” 

“Okay,” Merlin nodded, getting to his feet. “I’ll get supper too.” Arthur didn’t respond, just sat on the ground in front of the fire with his arms resting on his bent knees, head downturned. 

While he gathered firewood in the swiftly falling dusk, Merlin prayed to whatever gods were listening that Arthur decided to let him stay with him and return to Camelot. He needed to be near him to protect him, especially with Morgana growing ever bolder and more powerful. Arthur hadn’t moved when he returned to their makeshift camp and added more wood to the dying fire. He hadn’t brought enough to last the night, so he went back for more and then set about getting supper ready. It was almost peaceful, he thought to himself as he unwrapped the salted pork and speared it on the metal skewers he had brought. Except Arthur was silent, not mocking him and giving him orders. 

He remained silent even when Merlin sat next to him and offered him a skewer of pork. “Arthur?” 

“Mm?” Arthur looked up and took the pork, taking a bite cautiously. 

They ate in silence, and Merlin took the skewers away when they were done and wrapped them in the cloth the pork had been wrapped in. He sat next to Arthur again, but couldn’t quite bring himself to nudge him. The prince’s silence had filled the air between them with tension. 

“Arthur…” Merlin began uncertainly, just as Arthur said, “So, you’re –” 

They stared at each other. “You go first,” Merlin prompted him, and Arthur nodded. 

“Okay. You’re in love with me.” 

“Oh.” Merlin recoiled. “I thought we could forget about that.” 

“I don’t think I can,” Arthur said, not looking at him. “How did you hide it so long?” 

“Well it’s not like I was going to tell you,” Merlin said incredulously. “What would I have done? Oh, morning, Arthur, here’s your breakfast. By the way – love you. I don’t think it would’ve gone down too well. And what if I’d done something really stupid? Like kiss…you.” He faltered and fell silent. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Arthur asked, sounding nothing but curious, but Merlin shook his head emphatically. 

“No, no, I –” 

“You’re in love with me but you don’t want to kiss me?” Arthur said sceptically. 

“Arthur!” Merlin was mortified. “Don’t!” 

“But –” 

“Please.” Merlin could feel his face burning _again_ and tried to resist the urge to cover it with his hands. “Arthur, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Well I do,” Arthur said stubbornly, “so you’ll just have to suffer for a bit.” 

“Why do you care?” Merlin cried. “What is it to you? I’ll never mention it ever again and we can carry on like before. Just pretend it never happened. Can’t we do that?” 

“No,” Arthur shook his head, and Merlin despaired. 

“Why not?” 

“Because!” Arthur sounded frustrated, and Merlin didn’t know why. He closed his eyes in exasperation, and was taken by surprise as hands gripped his face and pulled him forward a little. And then Arthur’s face was terrifyingly close and there were lips on his. 

Merlin shoved himself away and stared in astonishment at Arthur, who looked suddenly uncertain. “What are you doing?” 

“I…” Arthur didn’t seem to be able to form sentences, and Merlin gaped at him. 

“Arthur, what the hell was that?” 

Arthur sat back and looked away. “Look, maybe you weren’t the only one speaking from another perspective by the river.” 

Merlin couldn’t move. In his wildest thoughts, he could never have predicted this. “But you love Gwen,” he said stupidly. Arthur exhaled. 

“Do I?” he asked, sounding very childlike. “I don’t know.” 

“You do love her,” Merlin said with total certainty. “All those things you’ve said and done, and it was her kiss that broke Trickler’s enchantment, not…anyone else’s.” 

“Not yours, you mean.” Arthur didn’t look at him. 

“I didn’t say that,” Merlin said firmly, a small part of his mind still hyperventilating in shock. Arthur had kissed him. He couldn’t comprehend it, so he tried to ignore it. 

“Did you consider kissing me yourself?” Arthur asked quietly. 

Merlin smiled slightly hysterically. “No, no I couldn’t. You were in love with Gwen, the kiss proved it.” 

“Merlin,” Arthur looked at him, and Merlin wavered in his certainty. Arthur looked sad, a little ashamed, but also old. Unbearably old. It made Merlin feel like a little child. 

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. He didn’t move as Arthur crawled close to him again, so slowly, like he was being careful not to scare Merlin off. 

“Neither do I,” Arthur admitted quietly, kneeling opposite Merlin, one of his knees just in between Merlin’s. 

“But,” Merlin’s throat was dry. “Gwen?” 

Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment, then raised his hand slowly, slowly. Merlin watched it as it came close and hovered for a second over his face before his fingertips just brushed his skin in a line from his jaw to the corner of his eyes. Merlin let out a shuddering breath – it was like his skin was hypersensitive all of a sudden – and searched Arthur’s eyes for an answer. 

“Can I?” Arthur asked, and though Merlin was still mentally begging him to explain, he nodded dumbly. So Arthur’s fingers curled, just his index and middle finger curving under his jaw while his thumb rested by the corner of Merlin’s lips, and he leaned closer, shifting the knee between Merlin’s forward to make it easier. His fingers exerted a tiny pressure, tilting Merlin’s face up just a little, and he thought his chest would implode by the time Arthur’s nose slid against his and their mouths finally met. 

There was no way to really explain it, and Merlin let his eyes close and pressed his face closer, one of his hands finding Arthur’s shoulder to steady himself on. Arthur’s hand moved down to his neck, and his palm flattened, fingers curving round the back of his head and stroking at the ends of his hair. It felt incredible, and Merlin breathed heavily through his nose and opened his mouth daringly. Arthur copied him as he did it and allowed Merlin’s tongue to quest forward beyond his teeth before touching it with his own. 

A compressed air pocket in one of the branches on the fire popped, and Arthur’s hand tightened suddenly and he pulled away. Merlin leaned forward to follow him dazedly before he fell back and took his hand from Arthur’s shoulder, touching his fingers to his lips and staring at Arthur. 

“I don’t understand,” he said again, confused beyond belief. 

Arthur ran his tongue over his lower lip and frowned slightly. “Look…I can’t explain it.” 

“Try,” Merlin insisted, shuffling closer to the fire. Arthur had just kissed him. Arthur _kissed_ him. And it had been warm and wet and _wonderful_. “I thought you were in love with Gwen.” 

“I am,” Arthur protested. “I mean…I do love her. But you…you’re…urgh, I don’t know!” 

Merlin absorbed that before asking hesitantly. “Do you like men?” 

“No!” Arthur cried. “No, I like women.” 

“Apart from me,” Merlin said almost to himself, and Arthur sighed. 

“Apart from you.” 

“When?” Merlin asked quietly. “When did this start?” 

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “Do you remember when Bayard came to Camelot, and you drank that wine, even though you knew it was poisoned?” 

Merlin gaped. “That was years ago!” 

“Yeah, well,” Arthur ducked his head and placed more branches on the fire. 

“Arthur…” Merlin stared at him. “Why didn’t you –?” 

“Say anything?” Arthur raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Are you serious?” 

Merlin relented, but huffed to himself anyway. “What about Gwen?” he asked after a pause, and Arthur sighed. 

“I…she said some things similar to you in Ealdor, except she didn’t have to worry about me punishing her, so I think she was bolder than you. And I didn’t know where you’d gone when I was bitten by the Questing Beast and she took care of me…I don’t know. It just…I thought I could never have you, and…” 

“I get it,” Merlin reassured him, a little sadly. “She’s lovely. She’ll make a great queen.” 

“I know she would,” Arthur frowned, “but what about you?” 

“Forget about me,” Merlin told him instantly, though his chest constricted painfully in protest. 

“Merlin,” Arthur looked at him, just looked, and Merlin slumped. 

“Fine. Well what now? You can’t have both of us.” 

“I know,” Arthur sounded agonised. “But…she’ll be heartbroken. She’ll hate me forever.” 

Merlin’s heart jolted. The way Arthur was talking… “You want to end it with Gwen?” 

Arthur didn’t reply for almost thirty seconds, not looking away from the fire. “Merlin,” he said finally, “we both know that what I have achieved with Gwen in months could be achieved by Lancelot in a day. The moment he returns – which he will, because I plan to make him a knight when I am king – Gwen will be torn. If she was my wife at the time, it could destroy everything. A king can have affairs, but a queen cannot.” 

“That’s not fair,” Merlin frowned, and Arthur nodded. 

“I know, and it’s another law I plan to change, but the ideals remain the same. If a king’s wife is discovered with another man, it is the king who looks the fool. I don’t know if that’s what would happen, but how can I be sure?” 

“So you’re saying that I’m the safer bet?” Merlin raised his eyebrows, and Arthur laughed. 

“Are you mad, Merlin? Maybe when I am king, people would certainly be less willing to believe it, but if my father found out I was courting either you or Gwen…it would be worse if it was you.” 

“Because I’m not a girl,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur nodded. 

“Exactly. He might only banish Gwen, but he would kill you without a second thought.” 

“Well that’s reassuring,” Merlin said nervously, twining his fingers together. “But what are you going to do?” 

“About Gwen?” Arthur sighed. “I don’t know how she’ll react.” 

Merlin had an idea. “You could,” he said slowly, “you could find Lancelot.” 

Arthur looked at him. “How?” 

Merlin shrugged. “If you could though, you could tell him Gwen still loves him.” 

Arthur considered it. “He would need some other reason to return,” he told Merlin, “he’s a warrior, a knight at heart.” 

“You couldn’t make him a knight again?” Merlin asked hopefully, and Arthur shook his head. 

“It’s highly unlikely my father would let me.” 

“Could he be a guard?” Merlin suggested weakly. 

Arthur snorted. “Grunt work. It’s far beneath a man of his skills.” 

“You could set up some kind of trap,” Merlin offered, “a fake one, I mean, and make it look like Lancelot saved your life. Your father would be more merciful then, wouldn’t he?” 

“Perhaps.” Arthur nodded. “But about Gwen…how do I tell her?” 

Merlin shrugged awkwardly. “You could not. You could just tell Lancelot she’s still in love with him, make him come to Camelot and see what happens.” 

“No,” Arthur said firmly. “I won’t manipulate her like that.” 

“Right,” Merlin looked away, slightly ashamed. “Sorry.” 

“I’ll have to tell her I can’t risk it,” Arthur said regretfully, “and she’ll hate me.” 

“No she won’t,” Merlin told him. “She couldn’t hate anyone. She couldn’t hate Uther even after he gave the order to kill her father. She’ll understand. And if Lancelot comes back to her, she’ll be fine.” 

Arthur turned and looked at him strangely. “Keeping all those secrets has changed you, hasn’t it, Merlin?” 

Merlin frowned, not understanding. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean you were…” Arthur struggled for a word. “More innocent,” he settled with. “More naïve and nice, when we first met. You’ve become more ruthless now.” 

Merlin rolled his shoulders and stared into the fire. It was true, of course. If Edwin turned up in Camelot now, Merlin would suspect him of being an enemy, not fall for his kind words. He was harder now, tougher. He wasn’t sure it was a good thing. “I had a lot to deal with,” he said finally. 

“I know,” Arthur looked at the fire too. They were silent for a long few minutes until a branch in the fire collapsed and sent up a flurry of sparks. 

“ _Draca,_ ” Merlin whispered, and Arthur felt a chill race across his body as the sparks formed themselves into the shape of a dragon – the Pendragon crest. 

“Merlin, don’t.” 

“Why not?” Merlin looked at him. “Arthur, this is what I do. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” 

“I think it’s magic,” Arthur said darkly. 

“Come on,” Merlin turned to face him properly, letting the spark-dragon dissipate. “You can’t still think it’s evil?” 

“I think it’s addictive,” Arthur said evenly, still staring into the fire. “I think it’s incredibly dangerous. It’s wild, and it tends to be used against me.” 

“Because your father outlawed it, that’s all,” Merlin shifted closer. “Look, Arthur, I’ve been using magic my whole life. Since before I could talk. Don’t you think that if I was to be corrupted by it, it would’ve happened by now? I don’t want to use it to gain power or money. I could go to another kingdom and get that. I just want to keep you safe.” 

“I’m not telling you not to use it,” Arthur said, clearly with difficulty. “I’m just telling you that I’m not comfortable with you using it all the time in front of me.” 

Merlin nodded. “Okay, I can do that,” he smiled hesitantly. “I take it I’m coming back to Camelot with you then?” 

Arthur didn’t do anything for a second, and Merlin felt fear grip him again, but it dissolved when Arthur nodded slowly. “We’ll go back tomorrow.” 

“We need to figure out what we’ll tell Morgana,” Merlin reminded him, and Arthur frowned. 

“I’ll just say I found the creature and killed it. If she contests, she’ll reveal her own part in this plan, so she’ll just have to keep quiet. I can’t believe she’s been doing these things," he added, confused and sad. “She’s been like a sister to me. I thought she loved my father. Our father.” 

“That’s part of the problem, we think,” Merlin told him softly, “me and Gaius, I mean. Uther refuses to acknowledge her right to the throne because it casts a stain on his reputation, and she hates that.” 

“She must have been conceived after my mother died,” Arthur said quietly, working out the maths. “But only by months. God, I can’t believe any of this is happening.” 

“Sorry,” Merlin said, and Arthur sighed. 

“It’s not your fault. I just wish that things were easier,” he looked so small and tired for a moment. Merlin wanted to reach out and touch him, maybe kiss him, but he was still too hesitant, too afraid of pushing the boundaries too far too soon and ruining everything. So he kept his hands to himself and went instead to the horses, making sure they were okay and removing the blankets from their saddles. 

“Here,” he said softly, holding Arthur’s out to him. 

“Thank you,” Arthur said quietly, taking them and getting to his feet to spread them carefully on the ground by the fire. Technically speaking, they shouldn’t be sleeping so close to it, but it was October and cold, so safety was overlooked. 

Merlin hesitated before spreading his own blankets – should he lie next to Arthur? Top to toe maybe? He shook his head and frowned to himself before flattening the blankets in his usual place – at Arthur’s feet, curled around the fire. He made sure the fire was well built up before peering over to check Arthur. 

All that was visible of the prince was a crown of blonde hair peeking over the top of his blankets, the edges tucked in so that no cold air could touch him. Merlin watched him for a moment more before settling down into his own blankets and drawing them tight around him, pulling them over his face to shield himself from the fire’s intense heat. Hopefully, things would be better in the morning. 

x 

Gaius nearly fainted away when Merlin told him that not only did Arthur know about his magic, but that he knew about everything else as well, and he wasn’t calling for either of them to be arrested. He didn’t faint, but he did sink into a chair and order Merlin to fetch the secret bottle of whisky from the third bottle cupboard so that he could pour himself a stiff drink. 

When Morgana saw Merlin, she nearly lost control of her expression. It wavered for a second between a relieved smile at their safe return and abject fury at their safe return. He was sure that she would be sneaking out to tell Morgause that night, and told Arthur so, almost feeling giddy as he did so. Arthur noticed and frowned. 

“What’s wrong with you? Have you been at the ale again?” 

“No,” Merlin grinned. “It’s just nice to finally tell you about this stuff.” 

Arthur snorted, but allowed Merlin to see the slight smile that appeared on his lips for an instant before covering it with his usual brashness. “You are such a girl, Merlin.” 

That was something that had been worrying Merlin – that their usual balance would be destroyed by either their newfound attraction or his magic, but Arthur seemed to be coping well. Outwardly, anyway. So far, they were both acting studiously normal. Apart from the whole waiting-for-Morgana-to-sneak-out-of-the-city-so-they-could-follow-her thing. 

Morgana did indeed sneak out, her customary cloak billowing behind her as she stalked out of Camelot and into the forest. Arthur was far better at following people than Merlin – he didn’t feel the need to follow so close, for one thing, and he was quite able to let their quarry get out of sight and then pick up their trail so they wouldn’t notice that they were being pursued. 

Morgana stopped in a clearing to clasp hands with another woman – Morgause. “Sister,” the blonde sorceress smiled eagerly. “Arthur has returned? How did the plan go?” 

“It didn’t work,” Morgana snapped angrily. “Arthur says he simply killed the creature and nothing else happened.” 

“But that’s impossible,” Morgause’s smile turned to a frown. “The monster has no body, I’m sure of that.” 

“Whether it’s dead or not,” Morgana said, frustrated. “Merlin is still at Arthur’s side. If anything, they’re as close as they ever were.” 

“We must find a way to be rid of him,” Morgause scowled, “the boy has meddled in our plans too often, and he is a serious risk to your safety in Camelot. If he ever told Arthur –” 

“Arthur would never believe him,” Morgana sneered. “He still thinks I’m part of his and Uther’s happy trio. He’d put Merlin in the stocks for insulting me.” Beside him, Merlin felt Arthur tense. 

“He must put Merlin on the execution block,” Morgause said, almost to herself. “We must turn them against one another.” 

“Gwen,” Morgana said triumphantly. “If we can make it look like Merlin is hurting Gwen in any way, Arthur will have his head. He’s besotted with her.” 

“Let us hope so,” Morgause nodded. “Very well. I will see what I can do. In the meantime, Morgana, try and drive a wedge between the prince and his manservant. You are sure Arthur would not value Merlin’s word above your own?” 

“Of course not,” Morgana smiled nastily. “I’m practically Arthur’s sister, and he thinks Merlin is a brain-addled fool. A loyal, trusted fool, but a fool nonetheless.” 

“Good,” Morgause smiled and gripped Morgana’s hands tight. “I have kept you long enough, sister. I will send for you when we next need to meet.” 

“Farewell till then,” Morgana nodded, and turned swiftly to depart. Morgause watched her leave, unaware that Merlin and Arthur were doing the same, before clicking her tongue. A black horse stepped out of the shadows behind her and she swung herself up onto its back and wheeled it around. 

“Away, stallion,” Merlin heard her whisper in its ear, “away.” The horse reared once and galloped out of the clearing, its feet thudding audibly into the earth as it ran. 

x 

They played their parts when Morgana was around. When she tripped Merlin up while he was carrying Arthur’s dinner plate, he did nothing but glare at her as Arthur shouted at him for being such a useless buffoon. She replaced Arthur’s metal shield with painted wood and smirked as he went after Merlin with a mace when a fellow knight’s sword went straight through it and nearly cut his arm off. But in private, they barely argued anymore, Merlin not needing to take his frustration out on Arthur and Arthur no longer needing to berate Merlin for incompetency. 

And then Merlin went to Arthur’s chambers one afternoon with a pile of fresh laundry to see the prince sat in his chair with his head in his hands. “Everything alright?” He asked cautiously, closing the door behind him and going to the wardrobe to put the clothes away. 

“I just spoke to Gwen,” Arthur said in a low voice, and Merlin turned, arms still full of shirts. 

“Ah. Are you okay?” 

Arthur sighed. “Yes. I’ll be fine.” 

Merlin caught the hidden meaning. “How did Gwen take it?” 

Arthur’s shoulders slumped. “Not well. She cried a little. I don’t think she understood why I’m doing this. We need to find Lancelot.” He looked up at Merlin uncertainly. “I was going to ask if there was…anything you could do to find out where he is.” 

Merlin frowned, not understanding, and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“Powerful sorcerer you may be, Merlin, but you can still be dim as unpolished pewter.” 

“What’re you talking about?” Merlin asked, bemused. 

“ _Magic_ , Merlin, you dung-brain.” Arthur sighed in exasperation. “Is there a spell you could use to find him?” 

“Oh!” Merlin was taken aback, and then grinned. “Yeah, yeah probably. I remember something about a scrying spell in my book.” 

“Try it then,” Arthur looked away, still not entirely comfortable with condoning magic. “I need to know where to send guards to find him.” 

“Of course,” Merlin nodded, still smiling as he went to put the rest of the clothes away. He couldn’t believe Arthur had just asked him to use magic on his behalf. 

“Merlin?” 

Merlin turned. “Yes?” 

“Never mind,” Arthur frowned, thinking the better of speaking. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“No,” Merlin shoved the last shirt in and shut the wardrobe door, turning to Arthur. “What were you going to say?” 

“Nothing,” Arthur wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Merlin raised an eyebrow. 

“Arthur…” 

“Just drop it, Merlin!” Arthur shouted suddenly, getting to his feet and stalking angrily to the window. Merlin stared and frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s been two weeks,” Arthur said in a quiet voice, “two weeks and three days.” 

“Since what?” Merlin moved closer. 

“Since the forest,” Arthur replied, and Merlin suddenly realised what he was talking about. 

“Oh!” he blinked and pulled an unsure face. “I didn’t…I’m not used to this, Arthur. That’s all. I didn’t want to mess anything up.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Arthur snapped, turning on him and stepping close, invading Merlin’s personal space. 

“Well you’re a prat,” Merlin countered, not giving an inch. 

Arthur opened his mouth as if to speak, then looked down at Merlin’s lips for just a second. Merlin sucked in a breath and leaned forward daringly. Arthur sighed in what might have been relief before lurching forward and pressing their lips together. Merlin shuffled forward a little and touched his fingers hesitantly to Arthur’s sides. One of Arthur’s hands covered his and pressed it firmly, telling him without words that he had permission, that he was doing okay. 

Merlin smiled into their kiss and opened their mouths, letting his tongue continue what had started in the forest two weeks and three days ago. 

x 

They found Lancelot and persuaded him to return to Camelot for a time before he left again, happy to have found Gwen and Arthur no longer involved, but unhappy with the lack of fighting prospects. He gave Gwen a ring and promised to return as often as he could before returning for good when Arthur became king. 

Uther continued to live in ignorance, doting on Morgana, who continued to make attempts on his and Arthur’s lives, and soon Merlin’s as well. 

Thomas used the money from Morgana and Morgause to buy two cows for his family and a dress for his daughter. His wife didn’t ask where the money came from but pretended to believe his story of a hermit in the forest bequeathing his wealth to him in an act of generosity before he died. 

Gaius couldn’t discover what the monster from the cave had been, but discovered that the lynx was a mythical being who ‘saw without being seen’ and had been known as a keeper of secrets before they were said to have been wiped out, their existence deemed a threat. 

Merlin didn’t sleep in Arthur’s bed until they had spent several months together already, and even then made sure that they only slept. He and Arthur had decided to take it slowly and not rush into anything. After a while, Arthur even became comfortable with Merlin using magic to light the fires and polish his armour. After all, it gave Merlin more time to spend with his prince.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider [buying me a coffee!](https://ko-fi.com/A221HQ9) <3


End file.
